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Story : Fae Deals
Dissatisfaction It was getting on for late summer and the weather was balmy and perfect up on the Mynd - or at least it was where the Covenant sat - as it had been all summer long. The sky was a pure shade of never-ending blue, with nary a cloud to be seen and the grass was a vivid hue which lept into the eye demanding to be beholden. The Covenant had begun to take roots and looked somewhat less raw in its position on the Mynd and all was well. Well, not all. Gruffydd, back from his latest exploits stared in dissatisfaction at the quarters he had managed to procure for himself and his children. He shook his head and muttered something rude, not entirely under his breath. "What's up, pa?" Lleufer asked casually, in Welsh. "Not glad to be home?" "Gah, call this a bloody 'ome? T'is barely a place to put weary feet to rest, ne'er mind 'ole up for the cold months," came the grumpy reply. "But it's summer!" chimed in Arvel. "It wont be cold for ages an' ages." "And last winter wasn't so bad," put in Rhianwen reasonably. "Not so bad," agreed Gruffydd. "Not so good either. An' we've got new folk around now. They'll be wanting space for them. Some bloke mentioned it to me already and this place is empty the whole time we're off out slaving away to bring in a crust for them all, and it wont be long before we end up having to share with who knows who. No, I'm not having it. We need a proper place!" "Maybe we can ask one of the magefolk?" suggested Merfyn. "Didn't they get all this lot up with a wave of their hands and their magic? Mistress Gertude said that Master Ambrosius was trying to be all solomn with it." "Trying to be like Solomon," corrected Rhianwen. "Who's Solomon?" asked Anest innocently. "Oh, some high muckety muck from over London way, I reckon," Rhianwen replied. Everyone nodded at the thought of some 'foreigner' doing important stuff. "And the others were all over the place too," she added. "They could do anything they wanted. But why would they?" "There's the rub," growled Gruffydd. "They wont for nothing. But I'm not going to have my precious lads and lasses turned out into the cold if I can help it. There must be something they want special. One good turn deserves another, and all that. They're here all the time, but we're out and about. May be we could turn up something they're needing. I think I'll go and have a chat with Master Ambrosius. He's got a younger brother, Llewys, hasn't he? Well, anyone who takes care of his little brother can't be all bad, can he? Thing is... he's never bloody about is he? Don't think I've even seen him more than once since all this got built." "Oh, he lives up on the top top mountain, above this one," put in Rhianwen again helpfully. "Mistress Nenya said it was a real chore to get their meals up to him and that Mistress Mnemosyne. She complained about them arriving cold and gave Wirt a real ticking off." "Hmm... Well, forget the cold bitch," replied Gruffydd shortly. "I'm going to see the other one. You lot get settled in and unpack the stuff we brought back. I'm going to make a deal." Bearding the Magi in his Lab It had not been hard for Gruffydd to get Wirt to show him the way to Ambrosius' tower, tagging along when the kitchen boy brought up the afternoon meal. Gruffydd was a familiar enough face, despite his absences, mostly due to his height and his rather familiar face, but part due to the contributions he had made to the Covenant over the last year. Wirt knew Rhianwen from her months working in the kitchen and Gruffydd was her father - though Wirt hadn't quite figured out how the goblin had such a normal child, never mind six of them. The long and short of it was though when Gruffydd said he had business with the Magus Ambrosius and he'd do him the favour of taking the meal himself, he was happy enough to be saved a trip and once on the soaring mountain plateau, he hurried off to deliver Mistress Mnemosyne's repast before he felt the edge of sharp tongue... again. Gruffydd made his way over to the lower structure, marvelling at the the difference here on this hidden part of the mountain, to the other also hidden parts. He had been getting to know the Mynd reasonably well over the last year, but this was another piece to add to his store of knowledge. When he arrived at the door to the building, he realised that the mage he come to see had built his home overhanging the very cliff face, and it was actually much larger than he had previously thought - though somewhat precarious to Gruffydd's mind. The path from the mountain top to the front door was nearly twenty feet of wide walkway over steeply receding cliff face. By the time he'd carefully traversed the bridge, a quick but cautious look down revealed nothing below the path but the faintly glowing fog that formed the border of each of the hidden parts of the mountain. He placed the covered platter on the stoop to free up his hands and taking a breathe to calm himself he banged on the door. Up here, alone, it seemed less of a good idea to bother one of the fearsome magi with their mystical powers. Who knows how he would react to a visitor. At least he had the excuse of bring victuals though. Maybe the wizard in question was not even home, but he would never know if he did not knock. The half-goblin, half man lifted the brass hammer that hung, hinged on the door as a knocker, and pounded it loudly against the steel plate. The sound of the impact tore through the eerie moan of the wind and seemed to reverberate magically through the house. Once again, he entertained the idea that the magus was not even in, but discovered just the opposite to be true as he heard a faint but clearly discernible crash of breaking glass followed by something that sounded slightly like "foowump!". Close on the heels of both sounds, Gruffydd heard a rather complicated list of invectives, some of which he understood, some of which he didn't. Once again, he questioned the wisdom of coming to this magic caster. He'd face this magus and more for his children, though; bring the mage on, fire spewing forth from his mouth if necessary. Gruffydd had just retrieved the tray of cheese and bread from the stoop when the door flew open, yanked over enthusiastically by a human man so badly out of sorts in appearance that "disarray" was too gentle a word to describe him. His simple gray shirt and leather britches were covered with varying layers of dust and ash. The filth did not stop at the hemline, as it crept up his neck and onto his face, where it abruptly swept to one side as if he absently wiped his face while he worked. Hair stuck out at unrealistic angles, creating a mane of filthy, brown hair that was double the size of his head. He swept his eyes side to side, the fire of frustration in them, and was about to close the door, when Gruffydd politely cleared his throat. Ambrosius looked down, startled. "Oh. Um...hello there." Ambrosius's face went blank for a moment, and them stammered, "Who...uhhhh, who are....A-HA! Wait, I know this! You are Geoffrey, right?" He did not wait for an answer as he stepped aside, holding the door open, "Come in, come in!" Standing in front of the large wooden door, he held it open with his body while using both hands to tame the mane of hair, continuing to speak at a frenetic pace. "I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone until the afternoon..." He glanced outside, noting something, "Oh, my! It is already afternoon! Where is that fine young man with my tray? It would look very much like the one you are carrying, Geoffrey...Ah! You have brought my meal! That is very, very kind of you! Please, please! Come in and we shall share it!" Again, Ambrosius motioned for the misnomered Geoffrey to enter. Beyond Gruffydd could see a modestly adorned sitting room, relatively small in size. Of to one side, stairs lead up through an opening in the ceiling, and a door in the back wall lead to another room. Two wooden armchairs sat around a small, low round table; pipe, tobacco and some wires sat upon it. "Ah... It's Gruffydd actually," he corrected, managing to cut off a 'you fecking idjit'. He always found it easier to speak English around a mouth full of swear words. That was true for Welsh as well if truth be told, but he happened to know a few more Welsh words to fill the gaps between the swearing. "I think Geoffrey is a bit taller, like." He popped the platter down on the table and looked around the room curiously. There was a startling absence of cauldron, stuffed lizards hanging from the ceiling or what Gruffydd expected inside the dwelling of a wizard. Still, this was only one room. There were probably plenty of others for holding skeletons and evil smelling brews. The mage himself definitely looked... odd. But then he was offering to share his meal, which was a most hospitable thing to do. The short man did not think it was some kind of nefarious trap. He hopped up into the offered chair, legs dangling down, and wished he had not. It did not do much good for being taken seriously when your feet were not touching the ground. "Actually, I came up to talk you about a proper situation. Er... to propose. Pappa's intuition. Oh bugger it! A deal, man! I came to talk you about a damned deal!" The effort required for Gruffydd to last more than a single sentence without swearing seemed to have made him explode. He recovered somewhat, the red draining from his face, to a shade of pale. "Er... begging your pardon, there Master Ambrosius. My English is a bit crap and causes me all sorts of sodding problems." Ambrosius chuckled. "Well, Geof..er, Gruffydd, it can't help that you're...ah, so damn uncomfortable in that chair." Ambrosius knelt down, reaching out a hand to touch Gruffydd's chair, closed his eyes and spoke some words, the only ones of which that Gruffydd could make out were "muto" and "herbam". Simple spont to shrink the wooden arm chair to his size. Base 3 (Change a plant or item made from plant products), +1 (Touch), +2 (Sun), +0 (Individual), total 10. Ambrosius has Muto 5, Herbam 3, Stamina 5, Aura 6 + stress die for a total of 19 + roll. As long as he doesn't botch, he's ok :) With a faint crackle of power in the air and (could it be that Gruffydd had imagined it?) the sound of a hammer and anvil, the chair shrunk in size until Gruffydd's feet rested comfortably on the floor. If he hadn't have seen the mage cast the spell, he'd have jumped up, startled, but in this fantastic environment, it seemed only natural for some reason, even if a bit creepy. Ambrosius sat back in his chair and pulled the tray to somewhere roughly halfway between the two men. He took off the lid, grabbed the hunk of bread and tore a respectably sized piece off, and proffered it to Gruffydd. The mage rose and disappeared through the door for a moment, returning with two plain wooden cups, a bottle of wine and a knife. He set them down, poured the drink, and offered a cup to the little man as well. What's the Deal? When all this was done and settled, Ambrosius, leaned back in his chair and, munching on a piece of bread and cheese stacked one on top of the other, said, "Ah! Now I remember! You have that, ahhhh....brood of children!" Ambrosius's face was alight with friendliness, despite the uncomfortable air that he, and most of his kind, gave of on a regular basis. "Seems to me that many speak very highly of the help you've given the covenant," the mage said. "Any, ummm...friend of the covenant is a friend of mine! Speak plainly, Gruffydd! What service may I be of to you?" Before Gruffydd could answer, Ambrosius interjected, "And don't fret the language, Gruffydd - it wouldn't be the first, or the last to be bounced off these, heh, irreverent walls!" Gruffydd gave the the mage a smile and raised his drink in salute, at the same time, patting the chair and giving a nod of thanks. "Well, to be honest with, Master Ambrosius, it's partially about my lads and lasses that I come to you. You see I heard that you are happen to be a damned fine builder of things, and buggered if I don't see that it isn't true when I come up here and see all this and then the pudding is proofed with best bloody whiskey when you go and do that to the chair and all. My young ones need a place to stay you see, and I thought you might understand that - having a younger brother who needs taking care of and all. A corner of the Covenant that is ours and we wont get shuffled out of." "Of course, I know that you're a busy man... er doing whatever deep and mysterious things you do, but perhaps we can come to some sort of trade, like?" Gruffydd took a long draught of wine before continuing. "I'm often out and about, you know. If there's something you need or are after, it might be that I'm your man to get it for you. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. What do you say, something you're after? A few barrels of faerie wine? Something else? A nice maid to keep you warm at night?" Ambrosius's head continued to nod thoughtfully for a few moments long, just as it had been as Gruffydd came to the crux of his request. After a long pause, he spoke, "Well, Gruffydd, there are, ah, three things I could use your help with. Before I lay them out for you, I am, uh... inclined to tell you that your answer has no bearing on the construction of your lodging. As you surmised, I don't fool around when it comes tot he health and welfare of children, and I would give my right arm, " he gestured wildly, "to make sure your clutch was safely ensconced in a home of your own. You will have your house, mei amicus." Ambrosius rose and walked around his chair slowly, talking as he stepped. "You tell me what your needs are, perhaps sketch out an idea or two, and I'll make sure you have it. Of course, I'd be...ah...honored if you and your clan would consider staying up here in the 3rd layer. I know that Llewys would love to have such a large collection of other kids close by on some of his more restless days!" "You are a great man," growled Gruffydd emotionally. "Your brother is a lucky lad, I can tell you." "As I said, there are three things that I do need." Ambrosius continued. "Firstly, after much discussion, Llewys and I have decided that he should pursue service as a red cap...a messenger of the House of Hermes. If you would keep an eye out for any book or scroll that might deal with the lore of any given area, I'd appreciate it. It would sure, um, help him in his studies if he could get a leg up on the places and people of each region. "Secondly, I, ahhhh, expect to be spending a great deal of time in my laboratory, but that doesn't mean that I feel the need to stay ignorant of what is going on in the world about me. All I ask is that you meet with me for dinner once...er...or twice upon each of your returns, so that I may gleam from you the knowledge you've gathered in your travels. Any news of people or places, strange goings-on or lurid affairs; I'd like to heard any of it." Ambrosius looked Gruffydd square in the eyes and seemed to be searching for something, what it was Gruffydd could only guess. Finally, he continued. "For the third thing...in my House, uhhhh, the House of Verditius, mages often employ an agent whom he implicitly trusts and has a great sense of bargaining. These agents, called "venditores" are responsible for the sale of items that I create. As a young mage, I'd be lucky to put out more than one every two years...but that would give us plenty of time to get to know each other. Eventually, though...I'm going to need my own venditor. When that time comes, I'd like to know if you might be the man I'm looking for. If your performance for the covenant so far has been any indication, then I think, by then, we'll both know." Ambrosius slapped his hands down on his thighs, blew out a mighty sigh and stood. "But, as I said, you shall have your home either way. Tell me what it is you'd like and where you'd like it, and I shall see one ready for you for the end of the season!" "We certainly have a deal, Master Ambrosius," said the goblin blooded midget happily. "I'm sure I can come up with something to put a bloody smile on your face and not regret it - sooner rather than later with some damned luck." He wrinkled his brow as he thought for a moment, pondering something. Then nodded to himself. "Yes, your first two requests seem to be easily accomplished. As for the third, I don't know so much about magic myself really, but I dare say if you needed something transported safely I could help you out there. If you wanted me to get a good price for something, bargaining like, I'd have to know what value to attached to the thing. As I said, I'm afraid I don't know too much about magical things." He leapt to his feet and thrust out his out. "Let us shake on it, Master Ambrosius". "Of course, of course!" Ambrosius said as he stepped over to where Gruffydd stood. The mage and goblin shook hands, sealing the deal. Gruffydd briefly wondered if there was some mystical aspect to the hand shake, but figured it was out of his control now. As they finished shaking on the deal, Ambrosius said, "And don't worry about the future. I'd no sooner send you out without the knowledge to sell well than I would allow my shield grog to stand between a lion and I in only a loin cloth!"